


You're supposed to Fight

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Child Abuse, Drama, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-18
Updated: 2005-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian and Justin meet in high school and realize that to get what you want, you have to fight.





	You're supposed to Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian Kinney was 16-years-old, and to say that he had a little extra anxiety and angst would be the understatement of the year.

But maybe that’s not the right place to start. I suppose the best place to start would be Sophomore year. Brian, possessing all the wisdom of a 15-year-old, was just starting to realize that life was shitty. Maybe it wasn’t the same for all the Beaver Cleaver boys in his class, but that certainly was becoming his own personal reality. His father was an abusive drunk who reminded Brian daily that the boy should have never been born in the first place. His mother was a reclusive alcoholic who hid behind her bible and chardonnay. And his sister was a slut who would open her legs to anything with a heartbeat.

Yeah, things definitely weren’t looking up.

Add all of this to the fact that Brian was keeping a big, huge, giant secret:

He kinda enjoyed watching the muscles of his rather attractive (and male) teacher flex and relax as the man would write notes on the board.

To some kids, coming out isn’t so difficult. Sure, they figure it’ll shake their parents up a bit, but ultimately, they know their parents love them, for who they are, not who they fuck.

Not so for Brian Kinney.

And when you’re 15 and experiencing shit that had never really been apparent to you before, the craving to feel wanted and understood is almost unbearable. But for Brian, there was no one. No loving family, no supportive friends, no where to turn. Brian Kinney was completely, and utterly alone.

Or so he thought.

It was three o’clock on a rainy Monday afternoon, and Brian had just stepped into after school detention. He’d been labeled a trouble-maker from day one, and that’s the way he liked it, because at least then he’d have a reason not to go home after school. He smiled snarkily at the detention monitor and slid into a seat in the far corner of the room and took out his iPod. Just as he was about to settle for a nice mix of Jimmi Hendrix and Pink Floyd, a blonde hurricane flew into the room. Brian’s breath caught in his throat and his finger hovered over the play button as he watched the kid apologize for his lateness and try to shuffle the seemingly endless amount of papers he had in his hands. He sat at one of the desks and busied himself with getting his affairs in order, Brian unnoticed at the moment. This, Brian decided, would not last for a moment longer. Before he had time to really think about what he was doing, he set his iPod on the desk and sat in the seat next to the blonde.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” Brian said as if they were two strangers meeting in a bar. The boy looked up, his crystal blue eyes shimmering with curiosity. Brian knew it was stupid, but for those few silent seconds he felt as though he was drowning in the deep aqua pools, as if he wanted to dive in and take a deep breath, letting his lungs fill with water and wash away his life. He was brought back to the present by the bright smile that lit up the boy’s face, immediately making his eyes sparkle.

“Yeah, well, that’s because I’ve never T-Ped the principle’s statue before,” he answered, his task of straightening up forgotten. Brian smiled as he remembered walking into school that morning and seeing the toilet paper turban adorning their dear old principle’s monument.

“That was you?” He asked. The boy nodded. “You don’t look like the type.” The kid laughed and rested his arms on the desk, crinkling the papers as he did so.

“That was the point,” he said. “Being good all the time is really boring. Obeying the rules, walking around doing the same things over and over because it’s what’s familiar and it’s what you are told is right, pretending that that doesn’t bother you, gets awfully tiresome. That’s why you’ve gotta do something every once in awhile that catches everybody completely off guard. Something that reminds them that the world isn’t black and white, cut and dry.” Brian smiled, and Justin returned, then looked down at his hands, thumb, index and middle fingers covered with charcoal smudges.

“I like the way you think,” Brian said. Justin looked back up, and Brian saw what could only be appreciation shinning in his blue orbs. Brian extended his hand. “Brian Kinney.” The boy took his hand.

“Justin Taylor.”

And that was it. From that meeting a friendship blossomed. A friendship so genuine that it could be trusted with their deepest secrets. When Brian told Justin the story of the flexing muscles the boy only smiled and turned a barely noticeable shade of pink, admitting that he didn’t go to football games because he loved the action. The boys took comfort in the fact that as long as they had each other, they wouldn’t be alone.

Justin shared with Brian his not-so-secret passion for art. Brian had become his favorite subject, and the pages in his sketch book were full of Brian’s eyes, Brian’s lips, Brian’s hands and Brian’s perfect form. He would always talk animatedly about his work, stressing the aspects of his craft he still needed to hone, and the aspects that he was quite proud of. Brian would always tell Justin that he was going to be a New York big shot one day, but Justin would only smile and continue drawing. 

To be quite honest, the change from friendship to lovers was practically seamless. The boys had stumbled up Justin’s stairs drunk as all hell, their footsteps resounding through the otherwise empty house. They fell into Justin’s room, laughing and mumbling incoherent words that only made sense in their little world. They undressed as they had a thousand times before, and then stood looking at each other in their almost naked glory. In less than a beat they were kissing, hands exploring and tongues tasting. As they fell back onto the bed, both knew what was about to happen and neither felt compelled to stop it.

When they woke up the next morning, a tangled sweaty pile of limbs, flesh and hangovers, they just never questioned it. And they didn’t stop fucking.

Months later, as the snow melted and the temperature changed from freezing to chilly once again, Brian and Justin stood in the hallway of their school, starring up at a flyer for the Sophomore mock job fair. Brian scoffed at the piece of paper, deeming that the entire event was going to be a waste of his time. He said it was ridiculous to force 15-year-olds to decide what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives, and that he and Justin should definitely try to find a way out of it. But Justin was just silent, looking at the offending paper with sadness and…regret? Justin explained that he didn’t really have a choice; that his father had already set up an interview for him with one of the businessmen from one of those big hoity-toity companies, and Brian, trying to play the role of caring supportive boyfriend, agreed to go.

They arrived at the job fair, Brian dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans and Justin clad in the Armani suit his dad demanded that he wear. Justin had seemed lost in his own head all day, and it only got worse when they approached the booth that Justin was to be visiting. Brian gave him a kiss on the cheek and pretended to straighten Justin’s tie.

“I’ll be out here when you get back,” he said. Justin nodded and smiled sadly as he disappeared into the tent behind the booth. Brian sat in the hard plastic blue chair outside the booth and waited. And as he waited, he felt a chill run down his spine and his body filled with that old feeling of aloneness. He felt like his emotions were springs, and every time he would push them down they would only pop back up with ease, vibrating up into his head. Some how he felt as though his time with Justin was coming to an end, and that was a fact that he was not ready to wrap his brain around.

Justin emerged from the tent and turned around to shake someone’s hand. He walked over to Brian and let out a deep sigh. Brian stood to his 6 foot height and tried to smile.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said. Justin nodded wordlessly and they left.

That night they made love for hours, neither wanting to face their inevitable separation. But lo and behold, the next morning a tearful Justin turned to an equally tearful Brian and said the words that Brian had been dreading hearing for the last 24 hours.

“I can’t see you anymore,” Justin quietly chocked out. “My father…he thinks that you’re a bad influence on me. He wants you completely out of my life by the time he gets back from Tokyo.” Brian nodded, at a temporary loss for words as he suppressed the sobs that shook his body.

“When is he getting back?” He asked, trying with every fiber of his being to make this conversation sound normal and okay. Justin looked down.

“Tonight,” he answered in a barely audible voice. Brian let a sob escape as he climbed out of bed and started to dress. With each article of clothing he put on he got more and more angry, until finally he turned and looked at Justin, hazel eyes ablaze with rage.

“What about all that shit about not doing what everyone expects you to do? What about being yourself and telling everyone else to fuck off? Your dad’s an asshole, Justin, and if you keep listening to him your whole life you’re just gonna wither,” Brian said between bitter tears. Justin bit his lip and closed his eyes, unable to meet Brian’s gaze any longer.

“I know but,” he released a small strangled cry before continuing, “he’s still my father Brian.” Brian looked at Justin, not knowing what to say. So without saying anything, he opened Justin’s bedroom window and climbed down the trellis, never once turning back.

That had been a month ago. Now, Brian sat smoking a cigarette on the steps outside his school, trying to decide if it was better to try and get home before his father, or wait until the man had already come home and passed out.

“Got a light?” A voice beside him asked suddenly. Brian looked up and saw a girl about his age holding a cigarette in her small fingers. Her style reminded him very much of the Olsen twins, but some how he knew this girl was wearing cowboy boots and leggings far before Mary-Kate and Ashley decided to make them popular. Her brown eyes reminded him of Indian clay dug fresh out of the earth and her skin was the color of coffee with two creams. She had her longish wavy brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail and her sequenced purse sparkled in the sun as her breathing moved it up and down, up and down.

Brian dug in his pocket and pulled out his Zipo, igniting the flame and holding it out. The girl placed the cigarette between her lips and leaned in to meet the flame, inhaling deeply and then sitting back, releasing a light grayish-blue cloud of smoke.

“Thanks,” she said. Brian nodded and the two sat in silence for a few moments. “My name’s Karizma, by the way,” the girl introduced herself. Brian took a drag.

“Brian,” he said around the smoke in his lungs, then exhaled the cloud out into the air.

“You’ve been sitting out here a long time, Brian,” Karizma noted. Brian looked at her in confusion. “I was working in the photo lab all afternoon. You were sitting here when I went inside,” she said by way of explanation. Brian nodded. He had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t seen her pass by. He briefly wondered who else had passed him. As if on queue, Karizma said, “No one else is here. I heisted a spare key from the janitor so I could work in the lab after school hours.” Brian raised his eyebrows. The girl obviously had spunk. Karizma continued on. “You look like you might need someone to listen.” Brian took a drag of his cigarette and looked at his small companion.

“Are you asking for the job?” He asked around a small smile. Karizma smiled back and stood.

“Meet me at the abandoned bridge at nine if you wanna talk,” she said. Brian watched her retreating form and smiled. He thought that it would feel good to not feel alone again. 

***  
Although the Spring months had finally staked their claim upon the Earth, Winter still seemed to rule the night, and Brian hugged his black hoodie closer to his body as a cold breeze ruffled his chestnut hair. He had made his way through the thick forest and was now approaching the old rusty steal bridge. He saw Karizma sitting at the edge with her legs dangling over the side as she looked out at the vast expanse of woodland that humankind had yet to destroy. Next to her sat a bottle of unidentified liquid and two shot glasses. Brian settled himself on her other side and looked out at the trees.

“And he arrives,” his small companion said. “You’re late,” she commented and picked up the bottle. “And, it is not polite to keep Senor Cuervo waiting.” Brian laughed deep in his throat as Karizma poured 2 shots. She handed one to Brian and kept one for herself and pointed at a lone street in the middle of the trees. “See that road?” She asked. Brian nodded. “Every time a car passes by on that road, we take a shot. In the meantime,” her brown eyes studied Brian’s profile, “tell me why your eyes are so sad.” Brian looked down and swished the glass around slowly, causing the contents to run all the way to the edge before falling back down and rushing to the other side.

“I just don’t have anything to look forward to anymore,” he said finally. Headlights streaked by on the road below and the two slammed back their shots, wincing as the amber liquid burned their throats. Karizma poured two more shots.

“Okay, this time try to be a little less cryptic,” she said. Brian sighed.

“My life is pretty shitty,” he said. “But I met this guy who made that alright. We were friends, and then we were more. He was my rock and my hard place and I had no problem being caught between him. And then about a month ago, he tells me he can’t see me anymore because his father thinks I’m a bad influence. And that was that.” Another car whizzed by and the two took their shots. Karizma poured two more.

“Parents suck,” she said simply. Brian laughed and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, they do,” Brian said. Karizma looked up at him.

“We’re not talking about this guy’s dad anymore, are we?” Brian smiled sadly.

“It’s a long story,” he said. Karizma smiled as another car passed. They threw back their shots and Karizma poured 2 more.

“Well, then you’d better get talking before the tequila runs out.”

***  
An hour and a half later, the two 16-year-olds were well past drunk and plunging full speed ahead into wasted. The bottle was almost empty, and the game had ended about 20 minutes go when neither party could tell the difference between the trees and the road anymore. They each had a cigarette resting between their lips and they sat reclined looking up at the stars while their feet still dangled over the bridge’s edge.

“You know what?” Brian half slurred. Karizma lazily rolled her head to the side and looked at him. “I’m like that road down there.” Karizma knitted her brows in confusion and inhaled her cigarette and then exhaled without removing it.

“Explain,” she said. Brian inhaled and exhaled the smoke from his cigarette.

“It’s in the middle of the forest all by itself,” Brian explained. “And every once in a while a car will pass over it, and for those few seconds you forget that it’s practically abandoned. But then it’s gone and the road is alone again.” Karizma snorted.

“Thoughts like that mean that you’re either too drunk, or you’re not drunk enough, so,” she said reaching clumsily for the bottle and holding it out to Brian, “finish the bottle.” Brian sat up and swallowed the rest of the contents in the bottle in one long gulp, way past feeling the burn of the alcohol. Karizma sat up and propped herself on her elbows. “Your life is shitty,” she said suddenly. Brian laughed and took another drag from his cigarette, this time removing it on the exhale.

“I told you,” he said.

“I know you did,” Karizma answered. “But, what are you doing about it?” It was Brian’s turn to look confused. Karizma sat up the rest of the way and looked at him. “You’re dad is just like, this great big giant asshole, and your mom and sister are no better, and yeah you’re sixteen so I guess there’s not much you can do about that. But it amazes me how easily you’re willing to give up the one thing in your life that made you happy.” Brian sighed and ditched his cigarette over the side of the bridge.

“What am I supposed to do?” He asked somberly. Karizma reached up and turned Brian’s face towards hers. 

“You’re supposed to fight. Go to this guy and tell him that you’re not willing to let go that easily. And if he loves you, if he ever loved you, then he’ll fight with you,” she said.

“And what if he doesn’t?” Brian asked, the worry shinning through his glassy drunken eyes. Karizma smiled.

“Then you learned.” The two directed their eyes back towards the road once again. “It’s getting late,” Karizma said some time later. “I don’t know about you, but I’m completely fucking smashed. Why don’t we head home?” Brian nodded in agreement and stood. He held out his hand and help Karizma stumble to her feet, anchoring himself by grabbing one of the steal beams so he wouldn’t fall over. The two new friends made their way back to civilization.

***  
“You didn’t have to walk me home,” Brian said as he collapsed on his bed.

“Yeah I know,” she answered as she pulled off his shoes. “But I wanted to, so shut up about it.” Brian smiled and closed his eyes.

“But what about you?”

“I’m gonna call a cab, don’t worry about me.” Karizma smoothed the hair off of Brian’s forehead. “Don’t forget what I said, okay?”

“Promise,” Brian said sleepily. “I’m really glad I met you.” And with that he passed out. Karizma smiled. 

“I’m glad I met you too Brian.”

***  
Brian woke up to one beam of light shinning on his eyes. He cracked one eye open and immediately closed it and groaned before turning on his other side, refusing to open his eyes again. When he finally did, he saw a bottle of Pepto Bismal and a bottle of Advil sitting on his nightstand. _Karizma probably put them there before she left,_ Brian thought. He popped two Advil in his mouth and washed them down with a generous swallow of Pepto, hoping the medication would make the midget in his head stop playing the bongos and the one in his stomach stop dancing.

Brian thought about what Karizma had said the night before. “You’re supposed to fight,” she had said. Brian rolled on his back and reached for his cigarettes and lit one, ignoring the fact that his mother hated it when he smoked in the house. _Fuck her,_ Brian thought as he blew a smoke ring up at the ceiling.

_I’m supposed to fight,_ Brian thought. _I’m supposed to fight, but I’m too tired. And I’m too afraid._ Brian reached for the remote on his nightstand and turned his stereo on. The Postal Service came blasting out of the speakers to the tune of This Place is a Prison. 

_Hmm,_ Brian thought. _This place **is** a prison. I need to get out of here. Maybe I need to stop being so tired and afraid._ With both sides laid out before him, Brian decided there were two choices. Either he could stick it out here for another year and a half, getting beaten by his dad and ignored by his mom and resented by his sister, and continue to be alone. Or he could take a risk and fight.

Suddenly there was a loud knock at his door.

“Turn that fucking noise down you little shit! And unlock this goddamn door!” Brian’s father screamed. _Thanks Karizma._ Brian finished smoking his cigarette and looked towards the door. His father was still screaming and pounding, and a nice crack was forming in the center. Brian sat up. He had made his choice.

***  
Brian strode purposefully up the Taylor’s walkway, determined that he would not leave alone. He knocked on the door and waited. Finally Craig Taylor opened the door. He gave Brian a look that can only be described as disgust.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He said. Brian brushed past him and walked into the house. “Hey! Hey!” Craig screamed. Justin came to the top of the stairs and looked down.

“Brian,” he simply said. Brian looked up at him.

“I love you,” he said. Justin turned his head away, trying to hide the tears that had formed in his eyes.

“Brian, please,” he said quietly. Brian shook his head.

“No, listen to me,” Brian said. His voice was steady and sure. “I love you, I love you just the way you are. You’re the only thing in my fucked up life that makes me happy. And I will not let you go without a fight.” The boys looked at each other, almost forgetting the other two people in the space.

“Justin I thought you told me that you told this freak to stay the fuck away from you,” Craig said angrily.

“Craig!” Jennifer Taylor scolded. She had come out of the kitchen when she heard all the screaming.

“Justin,” Brian started, unwaveringly, “if you really wanna stay here and become a businessman like your dear old asshole then go ahead. But the look in your eyes when you’re drawing tells me different. Don’t just do what everyone expects you to do. You gotta catch them off guard, right?” Justin gave him a teary smile and nodded.

“Justin, you tell this boy to get out of this house!” Craig screamed. Justin, never breaking his gaze with Brian, started descending the stairs.

“No,” Justin said calmly.

“What did you just say to me?” Craig asked in disbelief. Justin finally looked away from Brian and met his father’s eyes.

“I said no. And I’m not going to Dartmouth. I’m going to go now, and you’re gonna let me go,” Justin said in an even tone.

“Like hell I am! You’re going to tell this loser to leave, you’re going to go back upstairs to your room and in a year and a half you’re going to Dartmouth and study business!” Craig yelled. Justin turned to his crying mother.

“Mom, you know I have to go, right?” He said. He rested his hands on her face. She looked into her son’s blue eyes, replicas of her own soft blue orbs. She nodded as two tears ran down her cheeks.

“Jennifer!” Craig screamed. He was tired of being ignored in his own home. However, his constant yelling didn’t seem to be helping him any, because Jennifer only continued to look at her son.

“Call me when you settle down,” she said softly. Justin kissed her cheek and turned around to look at Brian. The boys smiled at each other and joined hands and ran out the still open door, Craig’s screams emanating outside.

***  
Outside, Karizma waited in her car. When she saw the two boys run out the door, hands joined, tears of joy streaking down their faces and smiles from ear to ear, she couldn’t help herself. She picked up her ever present camera and snapped a picture, freezing the moment in time.

“Who’s this?” Justin asked once they got to the car.

“Name’s Karizma dahling,” Karizma said as she peered over her big movie star sunglasses. “Now get in!” She opened the door from the inside. The boys climbed in the back and even before they could shut the door completely, the small dark blue VW bug screeched away from the curb.

“So where are we headed boys? Mexico? New York? California?” Karizma asked. The boys looked at each other and smiled.

“Just drive,” Brian said. And so they did.


End file.
